


Late night meeting

by Scorpiwriting



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, yes pretty much fluff because I need it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpiwriting/pseuds/Scorpiwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the night has fallen and the day is slowly coming to an end, the last thing Aymeric expects is yet another visit- However, this one is a little different. And absolutely not work related, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late night meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first time I write for them- And boy, has it been a long time since I had last written properly! English is not my first language, so I hope I haven't missed any typo or anything of the sort while reading it over.
> 
> Enjoy, I suppose!

Whenever the neverending blizzards that plagued Ishgard placated, Aymeric would stay on his room’s balcony, his gaze lost somewhere in the intricate labyrinth of buildings and towers that surrounded the Congregation, as fog lazily rolled about the lowest levels of the city: part of him worried about what would happen in the Brume at times like this, when the mist that usually stayed outside of the Holy See’s high walls seeped into the alleys, in the narrow roads that connected the slums to the other districts. From his position, he was safe from the fog, but his mind was just as clouded as the streets below his eyes- He wouldn’t dare express his worry, lest he ended up sounding like a worrywart, something he wouldn’t hear the end of, especially if certain people were to catch word of it. 

The mug in his hand was a pleasant source of warmth, a sharp contrast with the still chilly wind that lingered about, reminding him that this moment of calm was but the eye of the storm, a temporary break from their eternal punishment. He took a sip of the tea, enjoying the pleasant feeling of the warm liquid going down his throat, pooling in his stomach and giving him the sensation of being considerably warmer all over. Yet, something was amiss- What could that be? Lowering his gaze, the Lord Commander pondered over what could be preventing him from feeling alright- Did he forget about his birch syrup? No, he clearly remembers adding it to the mug before exiting on the balcony.

Then it hits him. Smiling, Aymeric wrapped his free arm around his own abdomen, taking another sip from his mug before voicing his thoughts out. “Do you intend to linger about, without saying a single word?” With the corner of his eyes, he hadn’t missed the ever so slight movement from behind himself, a light thumping sound alerting him of the presence of another person- Someone who apparently had a keen disliking for doors and company alike. “I was never a man for talking. That is your job.” The Lord Commander would be lying if he said that voice hadn’t sent a pleasing shiver down his spine and he was no liar- Still, some thoughts were best not voiced out. “Touché. But if it weren’t for my gab, you’d be forced to talk so much more- Can you imagine that?” Even without turning, Aymeric could almost see the Azure Dragoon’s grimace, or at least, he could imagine it thanks to the unimpressed grunt the other Elezen let out- Estinien’s behaviour wasn’t a novelty for him and thus he had learnt to read it quite well, something he was sincerely proud of, as the man was quite the difficult person to interpret.

“Do you intend to keep on staring at the roofs?” He didn’t sound too happy, but neither was he giving out the impression of being sincerely irritated- Aymeric allowed himself to chuckle a little at that, drinking some more before actually answering. “It is such a rare sight, to see the Holy See without the blizzards constant and suffocating embrace- Can you blame me for tying to drink it in as much as I am allowed to?” For a little while, he waited for the dragoon’s answer, but when none came, he merely turned his head just enough to see the other Elezen properly, noticing how he had already crossed his arms over his chest without even taking the helmet off, as he always did when he was certain no one else but the Lord Commander was in the room. “…Is something amiss, friend?” He was about to place the mug down to get closer to Estinien, when the man simply huffed, shaking his head a little. “Only you’d find it interesting to stare at this bunch of grey buildings.” 

The knight sighed, his shoulders slumping just a little as he looked back at the landscape the Holy See offered, drinking the last of his tea before placing the mug down to step in front of the dragoon, looking at him with an almost coy smile. “You know I am a… Particular person. You more than any other should be used to my little quirks.” His eyes lingered on the helmet, whose visor was still stubbornly pulled down- What was Estinien trying to hide? If he was trying to hide anything, as the Azure Dragoon could just be acting like his usual aloof self. It was something to take into consideration. “I know you well enough.” The Wildwood’s added dryly, arms still firmly crossed as if he didn’t want to allow Aymeric to get any closer to him, mouth drawn into a thin line: everything about his behaviour spelled ‘tension’ at best, but why would he be tense? “…Has something happened in your last raid?” There was a light twinge of worry in his voice, but that was to be expected: perhaps there was no visible wound, but what if Estinien had some manner of internal wound? The stubborn dragoon could’ve come all the way there with extensive bruising without even flinching or letting anyone know. “It went as smoothly as could be.” What anyone would’ve seen as a simple and brief mission report sounded simply odd to the Lord Commander’s ears: not that the dragoon was a talkative person, but when dragon slaying was involved, he tended to be more keen on sharing details, at the very least. 

Aymeric was a respectful individual, but even so, he raised both of his arms to take a hold of the man’s helmet, ready to force it off him if he had to, but he wasn’t surprised to have Estinien’s hands immediately grabbing his wrists. “Don’t.” It was a growl, a low rumbling sound that came straight out of his chest and that could’ve sounded sincerely threatening, if the Lord Commander wasn’t moderately used to that as well. “Come now, Estinien. You should know better than hide things from your Commander.” The dragoon growled again, but released the man’s wrists with a defeated huff all the same, and even from behind the visor, the glare was clear. “Using your position, are you?” The Duskwight couldn’t even hide his satisfaction as he carefully lifted the helmet away, almost sighing in relief. “I do that every once in a while, whenever I feel like you need a reminder- Oh, by the Fury, Estinien.” 

If the Lord Commander looked shocked at best, the dragoon surprisingly looked almost sheepish as he turned his head to look at the buildings, as if he had suddenly found out why it was so interesting to look at the landscape. “What happened to your face?” Maybe he sounded too surprised, but it really was a first to see his friend’s face as bruised as it was- It almost looked like he had been ran over by a rampaging wild Chocobo. “…I had a close encounter with a particularly angry Mylodon.” Which wasn’t a lie. As he was walking past Falcon’s Nest, delving deeper into Coerthas, a familiar roar had caught his attention, but a slight mistake in his calculation had ended with him receiving the most painful blow in his face: while the helmet had suffered no real damage (not counting a visible scratch), Estinien’s face beneath of it suffered the consequences of metal pressing against skin: a sign that he had yet again forgot to have his armour repaired properly. 

“And I suppose you had no one look at these bruises, did you?” He cupped his face and the mumble he received in response was more than enough for Aymeric to decide: of course he had to take matters in his hands. “You’re coming inside right now and you’re letting me take care of this.” It was clear there was no negative answer for that, yet Estinien had no qualms in huffing loudly and trying to pry his face away from the other Elezen’s surprisingly resistant hold. “Do not be a child.” The Lord Commander frowned, his lips pursing a little as he insistently tightened his hold on the dragoon’s face, making it a point to absolutely (and firmly) keep him still. It was obvious Estinien didn’t like being cornered and he liked doing things he didn’t want to do even less, so after a moment of apparent surrender, the Wildwood almost lunged forward to press his lips against the knight’s, finally unfolding his arms to place both of his hands on the man’s hips. 

Despite his initial surprise (which caused him to loosen his hold up just a little), Aymeric simply didn’t let go, actually tightening his grip to return the kiss with equal ardour, to the point of dragging Estinien a little bit closer to him. “Was this supposed to help you flee?” The knight carefully caressed the dragoon’s cheeks as the Wildwood huffed, rolling his eyes. “T’was worth a try.” He could’ve moved away the moment he felt the other’s hold on him had slacked, but the most egoistical part of himself wanted to savour that kiss (the first one in such a long time), so he ended up falling deeper into the trap he himself had set. “So, will you allow me to tend to your wounds?”

“They are barely of importance-“ Certainly, those bruises hurt, but he had suffered wounds much worse than the bruises caused by a Mylodon’s blow, so he saw no reason to care- For Aymeric, it was different, apparently. “Does the idea of being taken care of sicken you so?” If there was something that always manage to pull at Estinien’s strings, it was certainly when the Commander looked worried- For some reasons, he just couldn’t take it. “…Suit yourself.” 

Looking evidently happier, Aymeric let go of the other’s face just to grab his wrist first and his mug second, dragging him inside his chamber. “I should have some of that magnificent healing ointment left-“

**Author's Note:**

> I have already posted this on my writing Tumblr too, but- I wanted to give AO3 a try, yes.
> 
> Thank you for your time! ovo/


End file.
